If you ever encounter a sensible take on a more numerous epizeuxis, do let me know! (I note that Wikipedia cites Monty Python’s Flying Circus: I’ll have your Spam. I love it. I’m having Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam and Spam. But I reckon the baked beans spoils the deal, and it’s still only a seven-fold repetition.)

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Written in his later years, Borges's The Book of Sand (1975) and Shakespeare's Memory (1983) have sometimes been treated almost as "geriatrica" suffering from a diminishing imagination, if not from diminishing craft—as Hurley explains i...

The story blurb says it all, plotwise, but what it omits to spell out is how gorgeously detailed and effective the prose is. Raw, striking—like the two men—and relentless like the cruel world they live in.
If you're a reader, you'll en...

Every library both embraces and rejects. Every library is by definition the result of choice, and necessarily limited in its scope. And every choice excludes another, the choice not made. The act of reading parallels endlessly the act of...

The biographies of words are almost as riveting, embarrassing, profane, and lewd as those of humans; just turn to Mark Forsyth’s Etymologicon.
To the official book description—A Circular Stroll Through the Hidden Connections of the Eng...